


flickers of hydrangeas

by grey_king, minroll



Category: Hololive
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Small Town, Background Relationships, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:22:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28064646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey_king/pseuds/grey_king, https://archiveofourown.org/users/minroll/pseuds/minroll
Summary: Gura notices—she always does. This is Amelia, after all. Amelia who goes quiet sometimes, whose laughter makes her heart ache unbearably, who taught her that tenderness was in the hands. The same Amelia who’s been by her side since day one, unwavering like a mountain.Or: Amelia and Gura have known each other since childhood. Somewhere along the way, they fall in love.
Relationships: Gawr Gura/Watson Amelia (hololive)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 272





	1. i have a bouquet of pretty bones to offer u

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> set in a vaguely americanized high school but with japanese uniforms. all characters are in their final year of high school.
> 
> min: HI!!!! I'M. my brain cell is gone. anyways! this story is actually part of a series of works set in the same universe! the first part (amesame) will be its own fic and then the second part (inamesame) will also be its own fic! taki and i also have plans for a takamori side fic but that'll be written wayyy in the future. and one more thing: ina won't show up in early chapters because she's a transfer student. that's it from me! enjoy!!!!!
> 
> taki: I'M CLAIMING HOLOEN FOR THE GAYS

Gura stares blankly at the chalkboard. The numbers are blending together into blurs and swirls, and she thinks math should be abolished. The teacher drones on and on— _what if ninjas burst into this classroom?_ —about some formula she won’t need— _pizza…_ —or ever use in the future. She lists forward, laying her head in her arms. The afternoon sun is warm and present, blanketing the classroom in a certain drowsiness.

Somebody yawns. The teacher’s writing on the chalkboard, back visible. The rhythmic tapping of chalk against the board is all that’s heard. Gura’s eyes slowly close. Her brain is tucked into bed, night light on and blissfully asleep under two layers of blankets.

Then, someone behind her taps her shoulder. It can only be one person. Opening one eye, she leans back and slightly turns her head, arms crossed.

Amelia’s smirking at her, sticky note in hand. She quietly slaps the note onto Gura’s forehead.

That makes her open both of her eyes. “What the hell, Watson?” she whispers.

“Read it,” Amelia whispers back, a barely concealed grin on her face.

Gura squints at her. She takes the note off her forehead and reads it.

_Why don’t ants ever get sick?_ the note asks.

_Because they have little anty-bodies._

Gura wakes up a little. She smiles, grabbing her pencil and some spare paper. “That joke was so lame,” she says.

Amelia lets out a small giggle. “Hit me with your best one.”

The teacher is still writing on the chalkboard. He stops, pacing back and forth. “The class average on the last exams was lower than usual…”

Scribbling furiously, Gura notes down her go-to joke. There’s a competitive gleam in her eye. Once she’s done, she folds it up and throws the note backwards aiming for Amelia’s face.

“Ow!”

Gura turns around, face to face with the other girl’s middle finger.

Amelia puts her hand down and reads the paper.

_Why do fish live in saltwater?_ the note asks. Gura’s smile grows wider, waiting and expectant.

_Because pepper makes them sneeze!_

Amelia looks Gura straight in the eye.

Gura blinks at her.

“...a 32 percent average is unacceptable. There was help available after school…” The teacher starts growing red in the face, pacing back and forth even faster.

Amelia makes the ugliest face possible to hold in her laughter. “Knock, knock,” she starts.

“Who’s there?”

“Quiet horse.”

“Quiet horse who?”

Amelia leans into Gura’s ear. “Neigh,” she whispers, tone even lower than before. Gura wakes up a little more. She gets a chill down her spine from the close proximity.

“...this is an embarrassment to me and the whole school. I know some students in this class did extremely well, but most of you here did terribly…”

Gura snickers under her breath.

Amelia grins at her, equal parts smug and amused. “Oh, wait! I have another one.” She clears her throat as quietly as possible. “Two fish are in a tank,” she starts.

The teacher has stopped pacing. His head is buried in his hands. “Everything I taught was covered on this exam…”

“One turns to the other and asks…” Amelia can’t stop her smile from growing again. “”How do you drive this thing?””

“...please tell me you guys at least know how to do basic addition questions like…”

Gura snorts. Loudly.

The teacher’s voice is suddenly clear. “Gura, please answer the question.” He’s on the verge of tears. The whole class is looking at her. In the crowd of eyes, Gura spots Kiara’s cheerful smile and Calliope’s deadpan face. Kiara winks at her, giving her a thumbs up.

“Ah,” she says out of surprise. She looks back at Amelia for help. The other girl holds up three fingers.

“Three?” Gura flashes a nervous smile.

His shoulders slump down with exhaustion, despair hanging from his limbs. He drags his feet towards his desk, collapsing onto his chair. “Seven plus seven equals three,” he states, monotone.

Amelia’s floodgates burst open. She breaks out into a cackle, slapping her knee and jabbing Gura repeatedly. There are tears in her eyes from how hard she’s laughing.

Gura wakes up all the way. Her entire face is rose red and she wants to bury herself in a hole. But at the sight of Amelia laughing so openly, she concludes that happiness looks good on her (even if at the expense of Gura’s dignity).

The teacher doesn’t even get mad. All he does is point to the door and say, “Both of you, get out.”

And so, they stand side by side in the hallway, backpacks hanging from their shoulders and matching charms dangling.

“Uh…” Amelia says. “Wanna skip? We have English after this.”

Gura doesn’t even need to say ‘yes’ before she’s running down the hallway towards the exit. “Race ya to the place!”

“What the hell—that’s not fair!” Amelia starts dashing after her, smiling brilliantly.

Their laughter echoes throughout the hallways, the two of them in a golden bubble of their own world.

❣

The sun beats down on Amelia’s back as she pedals as hard as she can, lungs burning with overexertion. Tinkles of laughter sound right behind her. “C’mon, Watson! Is that the fastest you can go?! I’ll overtake you any second now!” Gura says. Amelia can hear the smugness in her voice.

“Well yeah, shortie! If I go any faster I’ll leave you to bite the dust!” Amelia pedals a bit quicker, autumn wind whipping through her hair.

“Hey, no fair! Just ‘cause your legs are a little longer than mine!” Gura complains, laughter spilling from her lips.

“That’s what you get for sleeping late!”

“We literally sleep at the same time!”

The winding roads seem to grow shorter, despite them only being a few kilometres away from their school. Sometimes the sheer number of years they’ve known each other eludes Amelia’s mind. The memories of them on this same road, biking and running and laughing, wash over her like a wave. The very first time they had skipped class together, she and Gura were walking on the sidewalk, laughing uncontrollably like this was an inside joke they had. It was spring back then; the spring where flowers were blooming faster than usual and the baby fat on Gura’s cheeks hadn’t disappeared yet. Amelia had stilled for a moment, simply watching Gura’s delighted expression.

Gura walked forward, a happy bounce in her step. She stopped not too far from Amelia and faced her, arms outstretched upwards as if trying to encompass the whole sky in her arms. “The world is so large! I can’t believe they shove us into classrooms for several hours a day,” she said, toothy grin almost taking up her entire face. “This was the most fun I had in a long time,” she breathed out. “Thank you.” In the wind, the words were almost carried away. But Amelia had hung onto them and kept them close to her heart, because this was Gura.

Amelia smiled at her. “What are you saying thank you for?” She walked towards Gura, reaching forward to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t know where we’ll end up, but you can bet we’ll always be together.”

Gura’s ears burned red at that and a giddy thrill made itself known in Amelia’s chest, one that she didn’t know the name for.

She wonders if Gura can tell her. This feeling that’s been in the background—

“Oi Watson, watch out!” Gura’s panicked voice breaks her trip down memory lane and when her eyes refocus, the only thing she sees is a green post getting bigger and bigger.

“Oh shi—” Fear replaces the adrenaline in her veins, hands seizing the handlebar to try and swerve. Her legs freeze up, and the next thing she knows, there’s a bump on her forehead and the blue sky in her sight. _So much for being sappy,_ she thinks.

Amelia shuts her eyes and stays on the floor, contemplating her life. Dirty concrete be damned—she’s wallowing in her own pity here and nothing will interrupt this sad moment. Then, she hears footsteps coming closer and opens one eye to peek.

“You okay there, Watson?” Gura speaks, worry lacing her voice as she crouches down to inspect Amelia’s injury closely. _So close. Too close._ Gura’s face casts a shadow over Amelia’s own, shielding her from the sun. Amelia thinks Gura looks goofy with her bangs hanging down, forehead exposed. She reaches up and boops the other girl on the nose.

“Gura, did you know? If you break your bones again and again, they’ll get even stronger.” Her finger is still on Gura’s nose. She drags her finger down to Gura’s lips, lingering there for a moment before she moves to cradle her jaw.

“Please don’t tell me you’re aiming to break everything until you’re invincible,” Gura mutters, eyes softening. She pokes the small bump on Amelia’s forehead, ignoring the hand holding her jaw.

“I’m not saying I will but I’ll get there naturally. Eventually.” Amelia winces, hand letting go to flick Gura’s forehead. “It hurts, so stop poking it!”

“Ain’t you a rude lil shit? I could’ve left you here, y’know?” Gura stands and pats off the dust on her skirt before reaching out her hand for Amelia to take. “Anyways, get up! We don’t have all day and I wanna see the sunset.”

“Aww, that’s so romantic.”

“Shut up.”

Amelia takes her hand and holds it tight, whispering a prayer in the back of her mind. She can only hope that Gura is wishing for the same thing.

(Gura does. She hopes they can be together for a long, long time.)

❣

Gura takes a bite of her blue raspberry popsicle, pedalling slowly now that the race is over. Amelia’s popsicle stick is in her mouth, bobbing up and down along with the slight bumps in the road. They had stopped by the convenience store along the way since there were still a few hours before sunset and the bakery they frequented was closed. The cashier didn’t bat an eye at two ruffled teenagers bursting through the doors during class time debating about horrible animal combinations.

“Imagine if mosquitos and jellyfish combined forces!” Gura exclaimed, waving her arms for emphasis. “Giant flying pests that sting you and then take your blood—double the amount of itchiness!”

Amelia grimaced, walking towards the freezers. “I’d rather die than have to deal with more itchiness during the summer.” She peered down into the frosted glass. Gura copied her.

The freezer was as empty as Antarctica, only housing two wrapped blue raspberry popsicles. They both sighed.

“It’s autumn, right?” Gura asked.

Amelia glanced outside at the trees, leaves golden and red. The wind blowing away the last traces of summer, a certain chilliness that only autumn had.

“Yeah…” Amelia trailed off, sliding open the freezer to grab both popsicles.

They walked to the cashier, hands brushing in the cramped aisle. Paid, then unwrapped their popsicles outside and continued biking to their destination.

Gura’s tongue is stained blue. Once she’s done, she stuffs the stick into her skirt pocket. The sun is lower in the sky than before, not quite touching the horizon. She looks at it, shielding her eyes from its shine. When she was a kid, she had tried to outrun the sun. She ran and ran through the streets, occasionally peeking at it to mark her progress. It stayed diligent in its chase, always right beside her, bright and beautiful. So now, she accepts the fact that the sun won’t go away anytime soon—hopes it won’t ever go away.

Gura looks at Amelia and finds their gazes meeting.

They both hold eye contact for a few seconds before Amelia looks away first. There’s a lump in Gura’s throat. She tries to swallow it down.

“We’re almost there,” Gura says, as if they both haven’t cycled through these roads a thousand times. The familiar trees stand strong against the light wind, a stark contrast to the leaves clinging onto its branches, golden-veined and fleeting. A hint of coldness is in the air, making way for the snow that would soon come.

Gura stops first. She gets off her bike and throws it into the bushes, the leaves concealing it so no one else sees.

Amelia does the same thing, then removes the popsicle stick from her mouth and pockets it. She stretches, mouth wide open in a yawn. “Well,” she starts lazily, rubbing her eyes. “Let’s get hiking.”

Gura hops onto the stairs, advancing two steps at a time. “You owe me a soda if I get to the top first!”

Amelia immediately fires up, a competitive edge in her voice and the earlier slowness gone. “Not everything has to be a race!” She runs after her, grinning and laughing.

Soon, they make it to the dirt path that leads uphill to the scenic overlook of the town. Gura and Amelia are neck and neck, but Amelia powers through and overtakes her. Gura jabs her with her elbow, eliciting a short yelp from the other girl.

A few seconds later, they both make it to the top, shoulders heaving and panting for air.

“Who…who won?” Gura manages to say in between gasps. It feels like someone has poured hot water over her and she mentally notes to never exercise ever again.

Amelia’s hunched over, hands on her knees and trying to get as much oxygen as possible. “Let’s just…“ She straightens up, putting her hands on her hips. “Let’s just call this a tie. We can buy some soda on the way home,” she concludes, smiling triumphantly at Gura like she had won.

Gura narrows her eyes. “Just admit that I beat you with my slightly shorter legs,” she says, ignoring the gazebo in favour of marching over to the fenced part of the mountain.

“Yeah sure, keep tellin’ yourself that.” Amelia trails behind her.

Gura leans on the fence, looking out to their town. Up here where the sun is brightest and the houses are kilometres away, she thinks they’re at the heart of eternity—the two of them secluded in their own world. The sun has finally started its descent, melting gold at the horizon. Its amber strands bathe the two of them in warm light, almost dispelling the chill of the breeze.

Amelia shivers a little, rubbing her arm. Gura notices—she always does. This is Amelia, after all. Amelia who goes quiet sometimes, whose laughter makes her heart ache unbearably, who taught her that tenderness was in the hands. The same Amelia who’s been by her side since day one, unwavering like a mountain.

Gura’s eyes focus on Amelia’s face. The setting sun tinges her blue eyes with flecks of amber, Gura notes. They were in their last year of middle school back then, she thinks, when Amelia had guessed her favourite colour on the first try. But between Gura and her heart, she didn’t have a favourite colour until the other girl yelled out “blue!” Amelia’s smile was bright in its smugness, already so sure that she guessed it right. And Gura had told her she was right, smiling right back at her. She hasn’t seen blue the same since. The morning sky, the ocean waves, the colour of Amelia’s eyes. She thinks she can live in blue now.

Shaking her head slightly to snap out of her daydream, she reaches for Amelia’s hand and holds it, grip firm and steady. Her gaze is locked onto a single point in front of her, too embarrassed to face the other girl.

Amelia doesn’t react for a moment, her hand slack in Gura’s grip. Then, she laces their fingers together and squeezes back, equally as firm. “Thank you,” she whispers, something fond in her tone.

Ears reddening, Gura can only look down at her feet and nod.

In front of them, the sky is melting into watercolour hues of red and yellow. The world is slowly sinking into deep indigo and soon the stars will come out, twinkling like individual lights. But all Gura can focus on is the feel of their hands, slotting perfectly into each other.

❣

A grenade explodes nearby, the detonation a cacophony of sounds and light in Amelia’s vision. The force of it knocks her back, sending her sprawling into the dirt. She can only vaguely feel the gun in her hands, solid and the only thing tethering her to this planet. As the seconds tick away, the ringing in her ears subsides a bit. Calliope’s voice, muffled but strong despite the distance between them, calls out from somewhere in the battlefield.

“Watson!” Calliope shouts as she shoots down another enemy. Bullets whizz past her, one cutting her on the cheek.

“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?!” Calliope has finally made it over to where Amelia’s laying. There’s some dirt and guts on her armor but other than that, she’s in one piece.

Amelia is safe at home, fingers working furiously at her keyboard and mouse. “Yeah, I’m fine!” she says into her headset, swiftly recovering from the explosion. Her character jumps up, reloading then gunning down another enemy.

They’re playing HALO: Reach as a training game for Calliope after she expressed interest in trying out FPS games. They played a bit of Apex, CS:GO and PUBG on other days and now this was the game for today. Calliope had tremendously improved within a few hours of experiencing different types of battlegrounds. She went from not knowing the controls for moving to getting more kills than Amelia in a single round.

A Skirmisher shoots at her, bringing Amelia back to action. Muscle memory comes into play as she moves her mouse, aims and shoots.

Headshot.

The Skirmisher falls down and she can only pause for a split second to admire her own godly aim before her health bar takes another hit. More enemies file in by the tens, lasers and bullets and blood a barrage of colours on her screen.

“How is it not over yet?!” Amelia exclaims in slight frustration. They had been defending this zone for fifteen minutes now and the objective at the top wasn’t going away.

“Man, I have no idea,” Calliope replies, chuckling a bit. The tiredness in her tone from the late hour makes the chuckle rougher than intended.

In the midst of the battle, their characters end up backed up against each other, still shooting at the enemies around them.

“Now that I think about it—” Calliope kills a Skirmisher with a swipe of her gun. “I never thanked you for showing me all these FPS games. They’ve helped me de-stress a lot, actually.”

Amelia smiles. “Calli~ You gettin’ all sappy with me? Save that for Kiara!” she says, giggling.

“Be quiet before I shoot you,” Calliope grumbles. Amelia likes to imagine she’s glaring at her computer screen.

Calliope clears her throat. “Anyways, I can see why you like these shootin’ and blastin’ games so much. It’s nice to hack away time with this and, uh, avoid responsibilities,” she stammers out.

Amelia stays silent, only the sound of her mechanical keyboard and mouse clicking. She shoots an enemy down with a headshot. The objective is finally cleared, and they are given a new destination. She sighs, moving away a bit from the computer to stretch.

“Think this is a good place to stop?” Amelia asks, looking back at Discord to see how long they’ve been calling. The call is at three hours and ten seconds. She looks at the time too, since everything passed by so quickly. Too quickly.

2:03 AM, the tiny clock at the corner of her computer screen flashes back to her. The moon is high in the sky, dying her room in melancholic blue. If she squints hard enough at her ceiling, she can imagine the glossy surface of the ocean when she’s underwater, rays of light breaking into individual columns under the sea. It feels like she’s drowning—getting dragged by the ankle into the unknown by something deeper and older than the ancient seabed itself.

“...fun. Thanks for carrying, Watson,” Calliope was saying. Amelia’s back in her room now, eyes suddenly focused.

“Ah—yeah no problem.” Amelia exits out of the game. Their call is still ongoing, seconds ticking into minutes.

Another beat passes.

“Goodnight. See you at school later,” Calliope says, voice crackling through Amelia’s headset like a radio.

“Goodni—”

“Don’t skip.”

And the call ends there. _As expected of the student council president,_ Amelia thinks, slightly amused. She shuts off her computer, sitting there for a minute, staring at the dark screen.

Her phone screen on the table lights up with a message notification. Just one ominous message from Calliope asking, _”Are you sure about this?”_

She unlocks the phone, a sigh on the tip of her tongue.

**ame:** wdym?

**calli:** You know what I mean. Can’t you talk to them?

The sigh from earlier comes out. She’s been doing that a lot, lately.

**ame:** i can’t  
it’s more complicated than it looks, calli  
my whole life has already been planned out  
there’s nothing i can do

Calliope’s texting bubble appears. It stays on the screen for a minute, then leaves. A few seconds later, she gets a reply.

**calli:** Okay.  
I still think you should talk to them.

**ame:** i’ve tried multiple times  
idk what to do now

**calli:** When will you tell her, though?

Amelia’s thumbs hover over the keyboard. The light from her phone screen is far too harsh on this blue night.

_What if..._ the message starts off with.

She pauses. Reads Calliope’s text again and again, hesitance on the tips of her fingers. Backspacing, she writes out a weak response. Better than nothing.

**ame:** what

**calli:** Both? About you know… feelings? and the other thing.

**ame:** ummmm  
soon hopefully  
what about u tho?? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

**calli:** 💀🖕🖕🖕🖕🔪

**calli has gone offline.**

Amelia blinks at her phone screen. Did Calliope really bail out on her like that? After _she_ was the one who messaged her first? She snorts, throwing her phone backwards onto her bed. It bounces towards the edge, almost falling to the floor.

Yawning, she follows suit and flops onto the bed face first. She turns her head to the side to peek out the window. Gura’s window has the curtains drawn, a hazy yellow glow coming from behind. Her fingers itch for her phone, tempted to text the other girl to ask why she was still up. But the lull of sleep is stronger than the desire to be a menace, and she passes out so quickly that it feels like gravity’s been pulled under her.

That night, she dreams of the ocean in all its familiarity and peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> min: thank you for reading!! i'm in charge of writing most of the chapters but without taki, this fic wouldn't have been possible sjkghksdjh her brain is just too big. feel free to direct ur thoughts at taki!! her twitter is [@suityofstars](https://twitter.com/suityofstars).


	2. kiss ur homies goodnight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops

They weren’t always friends. From the way they joked around with each other, everyone thought they were friends since they met. Playing tag during recess and sharing candy was how everything all went down, they assumed. It could have happened like that, but it didn’t. 

What happened was that Gura’s sandcastle got blasted by a soccer ball by Amelia. 

It was a warm spring day. The sky was an endless stretch of blue, sun shining proudly. Gura was in the sandbox, finishing up the sandcastle she was building. She had spent the entirety of recess perfecting the art of moulding sand to create whatever she desired. A group of kids were in the grassy field nearby, laughing and kicking around a soccer ball. Amelia was the star striker, a valuable asset in the other kids’ eyes because she could single-handedly beat up all of the boys.

Gura patted down the sides of her sandcastle, being as careful as a five-year-old could be. Just a few more finishing touches and she was done. Plastic red shovel in hand, she scooped up a bit more sand to fill in the top, a slightly pleased quirk to her lips. Once she was done, she stood up and admired her work, hands on her hips.

The sandcastle was more of a mound with tiny bumps surrounding it than a castle, but Gura was proud of it nonetheless. A large hole in one of the walls for a gate, sand columns as towers and a short stick at the very top as a flag sure made it look like a proper castle.

Nodding her head once, pigtails swaying along with the movement, she crossed her arms in satisfaction. 

Then, a soccer ball came sailing in and crashing into her creation. 

The sand fell apart easily from the force, bits scattering all around the sandbox and Gura’s shoes. She could only stare in horror as she processed the death of her architectural masterpiece.

Amelia jogged towards the death site, gaze flicking over to the soccer ball before stopping at the edge of the sandbox. “Wow. Is that your sandcastle?” she asked, tone curious yet oblivious to the mess.

They had never spoken before. What was Gura supposed to say? This dumb blonde kid just destroyed the only thing she had ever been proud of in front of her eyes and the other girl wasn’t even aware. 

Something in her mind shattered. 

Gura stayed silent, eyes fixed on the remains of her sandcastle. She was still clutching the plastic shovel, hand shaking from how tight her grip was.

A teacher nearby had witnessed the whole situation and was now here to help. “Amelia, you accidentally kicked the soccer ball into Gura’s sandcastle.” He gestured from the sandbox to the ball laying in the grass, some sand still clinging to it. “Remember what the gym teacher taught you to say if you did something you didn’t mean to?” 

Amelia gasped, straightening up. She held out her hand to Gura. “I’m really sorry about messing up your sandcastle!” she said, tears in her eyes.

Gura looked at Amelia. At her sandcastle, laying there pitifully. Then at the other girl’s hand, still outstretched for a handshake.

She contemplated it for a moment.

Then she bit Amelia’s hand.

The rest of the story was a blur of sand, punching and head butting. From then on, it only got worse when they realized they were next-door neighbours. Gura remembered peeking her head out the window just to see Amelia next to her in her own room playing video games. 

Fast forward several years of doorbell ditching, throwing rocks at windows and dealing with being classmates every single year, they got used to each other. It was hard not to, really. From getting shoved into the same dodgeball teams, paired together in partner projects and Amelia being the only witness to Gura falling off her bike one summer afternoon, they were always pushed together in some way. By the time eighth grade rolled around, Gura had realized keeping a grudge about some stupid sandcastle wasn’t worth it. Amelia was already making an effort to get along with her, but Gura just pushed her away, ego too large to let them start anew.

So when she finally got over her pride, Amelia had greeted her with an enthusiasm brighter than the sun. They’d compensated for the years spent being enemies by competing in video games, racing to the top of the hill on their bikes and constantly sleeping over at each other’s houses. But somewhere during those years, Gura realized her heart beating faster whenever Amelia smiled at her or laughed wasn’t a normal “gals being pals” thing.

Fuck.

  
  
  
  
  


❣

  
  
  
  
  


Amelia feels her eyebrow twitch at the sight in front of her. The cafeteria seems to be busier and noisier today. In the distance, beans and carrot sticks are being thrown around, thick lines of mayonnaise spraying in the air like a whale’s blowhole and teenagers brawling on lunch tables. Fortunately, they had raced each other to the cafeteria right after the bell rang, gotten their food and into some seats in a secluded corner. However, someone thought it was a good idea to suddenly start a food fight with half of the cafeteria’s population. Kiara and Calliope normally sat with them during lunch, but they had to attend to student council duties earlier.

Gura lets out a loud and exasperated sigh. Or a yawn? Amelia can’t tell. Gura’s been yawning more frequently than usual and the permanent eye bags under her eyes are way more prominent now. The lingering memory of her window still being lit at the ungodly hours of night make its way to the front of Amelia’s mind. Before she can ask, a beef patty shoots past Gura, almost hitting her in the face, and lands on the wall behind her with a disgusting  _ splat _ . 

"I am _not_ dealing with this today,” Gura says, rubbing her eyes then making a beeline for the exit.

"Yeah… Let's eat in the council room. I’m pretty sure Calli and Kiara aren't eating each other's faces anyway.” Amelia grabs her plastic plate of pizza and falls step in step with Gura. 

There are some people loitering and walking around in the hallways but other than that, it’s quiet. Amelia is trying to balance her huge pizza slice on her tiny plate, tongue stuck out in concentration. Gura yawns mostly, walking slowly to their destination.

Amelia glances over to the shorter girl. Her bed hair stands out today, cowlicks of blue and white strands sticking up everywhere. Amelia reaches over, trying to pat down the hair. 

Gura leans into the touch, eyes closed. A content sigh comes from her mouth. 

Amelia blushes, stilling her hands for a brief moment. Gura’s never made that sound before. And has her hair always been that soft? 

Gura’s eyes flutter open. Her mouth is rounded in a pout, pupils glazed over with sleepiness. “Why’d you st…” 

Then the realization dawns on her, colouring her cheeks a soft pink. “I think you should go back to attending to your pizza,” she mutters, pointing over to the girl’s lunch.

“Wha—“ is the only thing Amelia can say before she notices the slice is on the verge of slipping out of the plate. She tips it back up, safely securing it in the middle again. Wiping her forehead of nonexistent sweat, she breathes out in relief. 

Gura narrows her eyes. “Are you sure you want to eat that, though? The cafeteria food this week is gross,” she says. The only things she’s been bringing to lunch these days are bread from the local bakery and a carton of milk. 

Amelia scrutinizes the pizza slice, looking for any flaws. Cheese. Crust with green edges. Pepperoni that looks like it’s been thrown on the floor. Orange grease. “What’s the worst thing that can happen? I get food poisoning and die?” she asks, shrugging.

Gura stares at her.

Amelia stares back.

Just then, they pass by a garbage can and Gura knocks the whole plate out of Amelia’s hands and into the garbage.

Amelia blinks at her now empty hands, mouth rounded in an  _ o _ like her pizza had just pulled an elaborate disappearing act on her.

“I don’t want you throwing up all over the place when I visit later,” Gura says, not even stopping to see if she landed the shot.

“My pizza…” Amelia whines but is still walking beside Gura. They’re here at the student council room’s doors anyway. The large dark oak doors stand before them, golden handles polished and clean. Most of the school’s funds went towards the student council since they were the ones who did a majority of the work and planning for students. The principal and teachers were there just to teach students and make sure none of them killed each other while Calliope, Kiara and others handled the wellbeing of the population. Amelia feels bad about the number of responsibilities Calliope has on her hands. The girl is the student council president, works a part-time job and even produces her own music.

Gura doesn’t bother knocking. She opens the doors, ready to yell something out before Kiara comes barrelling into her, arms wrapped around the shorter girl.

“CALLI, IT’S BEEN 84 YEARS!” Kiara exclaims. Amelia can see the heart particles coming out from her.

Kiara looks down at the face pressed into her chest and at Amelia, standing beside her. The realization dawns on her. She releases Gura slightly only to drag Amelia into the hug. “GURA AND AME, IT’S BEEN 84 YEARS!” she shouts with the same enthusiasm as before.

Kiara loosens her death grip a moment later, a bright smile on her face.

“Oh my God, I think I saw the light at the end of the tunnel,” Gura says, panting dramatically. 

“What brings you guys to me and Calli’s love nest?”

“There’s a food fight in the cafeteria right now and we missed you both,” Amelia says, ignoring Kiara’s remark. She saunters over to the couch, plopping down and immediately taking the cookies from the bowl on the table. Gura sits down beside her, grabbing a carton of milk from her bag and drinking it. 

“Aw, I missed you guys too!” Kiara takes a seat across them. “Calli’s out getting files from the teachers and the others are setting up things around the school,” she clarifies. 

“Sounds like the student council’s busy,” Gura points out.

Kiara sighs, leaning back on the couch and stretching. “It’s almost winter and most of us are in our last year of high school, so the teachers are making us do more work than usual to prepare for the new generation of student council.” She straightens up again, posture relaxed.

Amelia’s still munching on the cookies. “I don’t get why you joined, honestly. It’s been known to be way too tough for the students working here,” she says. There’s a crumb on the corner of her mouth.

Kiara laughs sheepishly. “Well… I thought it was going to be fun!”

Amelia and Gura look at her, eyebrows furrowed in doubt.

“And because Calli was the president.” Kiara’s blushing, playing with the end of her sleeves. 

“I knew it!” Gura says, leaning forward in her seat. “You’re so whipped for her that it’s not even funny.”

“Wait,” Amelia pipes in. “Why have you not confessed yet? It’s been what—a year since you met her?”

Gura takes a sip of her milk. “Didn’t you also date like, some other people during that time period too?”

Kiara looks away, attempting to whistle a tune. After five seconds of failing to musically blow air from her mouth, she stops. Cradles her face in her hands. Sniffles. “I think Calli’s straight.”

The two gremlins pause. Gura’s mouth is open in the process of chugging more milk but at that sentence, she had stopped all movement. Amelia's hand is frozen mid-air, reaching for another cookie. The tense silence drags on for a few more seconds.

Then Amelia breaks it, standing up and slamming her hands on the table. “STRAIGHT?”

Gura cackles, slapping the desk like this is the funniest thing ever.

“Kiara, do you honestly think someone who wears flannel four times a week after school, hasn’t ever expressed affection towards the opposite gender and has a limp wrist is STRAIGHT?” Amelia slams her hands on the desk again to emphasize her point.

Kiara has tears in her eyes. “M-Maybe?” she stutters out. “She doesn’t give off any gay vibes and my gaydar is usually very accurate.”

“You can’t be serious.” 

“Okay, well, that’s not really part of the problem but everything has become super complicated in the past few months? Just because one time we…” Kiara pauses, looking off into space. She shakes her head. “Sorry. I don’t want to explain any further.”

Amelia settles back into the couch, taking another cookie. “I’ve seen the way she looks at you. And let me tell you, she looks at you like you’re the only thing in her world. I don’t know what’s going on between you two but that’s one thing I’m sure of,” she concludes and snaps the cookie in half.

Kiara ponders for a moment, deathly quiet. Her mouth is crooked as if a goofy grin is on the verge of appearing. 

“Why don’t you just ask her if she likes girls?” Gura suggests. 

“Hahahaha, wow these cookies are great! I love cookies!” Kiara hurriedly shoves the cookies in her mouth.

At that moment the door opens, saving Kiara from further embarrassment. Calliope walks into the room, pink hair flowing behind, an air of elegance around her. She’s flipping through some files, red eyes flicking back and forth between the words. Then, she notices the extra company in the room. “Yo,” is all she says before walking over to her desk and reading files again. 

They both greet her back with a mock salute.

Honestly, Amelia had a minor crush on Calliope before she realized they worked better as friends. But everyone probably did, too. There’s something about her regal and put-together aura that naturally attracts people to her. Teachers and students alike love her for her ability to work efficiently, command a whole group of rowdy teenagers to be quiet and her great musical skills. Combine that with the fact that she’s beautiful and tall, and of course no one’s able to resist her outside charms.

Amelia peeks at Kiara. The other girl has a light blush on her face, something tender in her eyes. She’s looking at Calliope like this is the first time she’s seeing her properly. 

Amelia briefly wonders if this is how she looks at Gura. 

Gura nudges Amelia with her foot. Her eyes dart to the door, eyebrows waggling.

Amelia nods quickly. 

“Anyways, gotta blast!” Gura says, shooting up and leaping over the couch to get to the exit.

“You—“ Amelia cuts herself off to groan. “See ya, lovebirds!”

Kiara still has the awareness to say goodbye. “Thanks for stopping by and eating all of our cookies!” By then, Amelia’s already gone out the door, trying to catch up to Gura. 

The bell rings. Outside, a black cat scales the fence, copper eyes attentive.

  
  
  
  
  


❣

  
  
  
  
  


“I think Calli and Kiara are both idiots,” Gura says, trying to steer her bike with no hands. Amelia is beside her, eating some melon bread on one hand and riding very slowly on her own bike.

“You just realized?” Amelia asks, taking a bite of the bread. 

“No, I mean like—“ Gura’s bike swerves to the left. She swerves back in the right direction, steadying herself again. “They’re even bigger idiots when it comes to each other.”

Amelia laughs. “You’d think Kiara would be the one to communicate clearly, but it turns out she’s just as bad as Calli.” 

Gura crosses her arms, nodding sternly like a mafia boss. “Dumbasses,” she says. “Why do they make it so hard for themselves? They clearly like each other.” Her arms are still crossed, bike weaving from side to side dangerously.

Amelia eyes her cautiously. She throws the last bit of melon bread into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “From what I’ve heard today, there’s a lot more going on underneath.”

“I just want ‘em to be happy…” Gura’s arms are stuck out at the sides, balancing as if she was on a tightrope. Her bike wobbles, swaying dangerously. Then it finally turns to the left, right into a ditch. Amelia’s arm shoots out, grabbing Gura’s steering wheel to try and steady her. 

“I got y—“

The momentum and sudden movement sends Amelia’s body weight too forward, resulting in both of them toppling over. They land onto a small pile of leaves, bikes miraculously not too far from them. Their legs are tangled and Gura’s back is slightly wet from the leaves on the sidewalk. 

The groan that comes from Gura’s mouth is muffled. Her elbows dig into the concrete below, reminding her of where she is. She opens her eyes, expecting to see the cloudy sky. Then, she realizes a moment too late that the hand behind her head and the collarbone her nose is buried in is Amelia’s. 

Amelia has already regained her senses, lifting herself up and inspecting Gura’s face for any injuries. Her hand is still supporting her head. “You good?” she asks.

No. She’s not good at all. She can feel the blush creeping up her face, and that is never a good sign. Don’t people only get this close to kiss? At this distance, Gura can see the feathery line of Amelia’s lashes and each and every spot of light in her eyes. The face she’s known since childhood—the familiar slope of her nose, the same childish glint in her smile. But she’s leaner and sharper now, not the same baby-faced kid who was a bit too obsessed with video games. When did she grow up? When did  _ they _ grow up? Gura can still remember the loud-mouthed brat with too many bruises in middle school that bothered her, constantly asking to be friends, relentless in her pursuit. 

Amelia’s eyes are still roaming around her face, hand moving aside her bangs to check if there’s any damage. Her mouth is formed in a pout, eyebrows upturned with concern.

“Pretty,” Gura blurts out. 

Amelia freezes. Blinks twice. A lovely shade of red powders itself on her cheeks. She opens her mouth to say something, but then closes it.

The sirens in Gura’s head are blaring noisily, flashing  _ SOS SOS SOS _ in bold letters. The creeping blush from before finally makes itself known, covering Gura’s whole face with crimson. She’s suddenly hyper-aware of Amelia’s legs in between her own and her body weight pressing against the smaller girl’s. “PRETTY GOOD, I MEAN.” Clearing her throat, she scrambles out of Amelia’s grasp, running over to her bike and propping it back up. 

Gura’s heart is beating fast and loud in her ears, drowning out the sounds around her. The wind is picking up, on the verge of transforming from a whisper to a fully formed howl. 

“Gura…” Amelia trails off, disappointment in her tone.

Gura hops onto her bike, pedalling in the opposite direction and away from Amelia. She rides through the road, unseeing and advancing towards wherever her feet take her. Bits of gravel and pebbles crunch under the tires. The sound of someone behind her, keeping pace with their own bike, is loud and clear despite the wind that’s threatening to strip the trees of their leaves. 

Something tugs on her sleeve. Only when she looks up into Amelia’s worried eyes does she realize she’s stopped pedalling. “Sorry for running from you,” Gura mumbles. 

Amelia smiles, eyes crinkling into crescent moons. 

_ She’s beautiful, _ Gura thinks.

Amelia hums, a deliberate note of approval and transition.

Gura tears her gaze away from Amelia, looking up at the sight in front of her. They’re on the opposite side of town where the houses are scarce and the animals run free. Over here, only an abandoned mansion at the entrance of the woods stands unmoving in the wind as if life around it had stopped a long time ago. They visited this exact mansion in their first year of high school during one of their adventures after school. Goosebumps run along Gura’s arms. She ignores them, only moving forward to the side of the mansion.

“Wait,” Amelia says, grabbing Gura’s wrist. Her hand is warm. “Are you sure you want to go in there?”

Gura shrugs. “It’s been abandoned for years and the last time we visited, we made it out alive.” She slips her wrist out of Amelia’s grasp only to grab her hand. “Also, aren’t you curious? What if we find something down there?” she asks, grinning mischievously. 

Amelia hesitates. Then, she squeezes her hand. “Idiot. Your hands are shaking.” There’s a disapproving frown on her face. 

“They’ll stop shaking when we’re inside,” Gura says. She starts walking, dragging Amelia along with her. They walk through bushes and grass, kicking away some bits of cardboard that was probably carried by the wind. 

“Oh!” Gura exclaims, eyes lighting up. She lets go of Amelia’s hand to move the sticks and pebbles from the hidden basement door. A few years ago they had stumbled upon this entrance due to Gura’s persistence in exploring this place. They knocked on the front door, but nothing happened. So instead of walking away or walking straight in like a normal person would, fourteen-year-old Gura sought out another entrance.

Amelia peeks over Gura’s shoulder. “It looks exactly the same,” she says. 

“I told you,” Gura remarks. The wind blows away the last bit of debris from the door, finally revealing the whole thing. It’s next to a raised platform that led to one of the many backdoors. The lever for the hatch is masterfully painted to match the colour scheme, which means that it’s hidden to most passing onlookers. She lifts the double trap doors up, propping them open so Amelia can get in first.

Amelia goes inside, then Gura. Both hatches close with a thunk, leaving the two of them in the darkness of the stairway. Gura pulls out her phone, switching on the flashlight. The light pierces the dark, dust motes in the air now visible. 

“Jeez, the range sucks,” Gura says, squinting as if it’ll make her see better.

“We should’ve brought better flashlights if this was your plan before coming to my house,” Amelia says, also activating the flashlight on her phone. “Is it me or is this place dustier than last time?”

They stumble around, trying their best not to bump into anything suspicious. The basement has the walls of a castle, smooth stone grey that provides a strong foundation for the mansion. Cobwebs litter the floors and low ceiling. Their footsteps are light but still echo with each step they take. A few years ago when they were dumb teenagers looking for some quick joy, they had busted into this basement, carefree but still cautious. After they pretended to film a horror documentary and messed around a bit more without finding anything, Amelia pulled out a sharpie from her bag and wrote their names somewhere on the wall. Gura remembers taking the marker from Amelia, doodling their faces and putting a heart between them. They had left a few minutes later, giggling gleefully.

Gura runs her hand along the wall, trying to find their names. She retraces the steps of their past, trying to match what path they took a few years ago. When her hands find the familiar dent in the wall and then their marks a moment later, a huge grin shoots up her face. “I found it!” she says, tugging Amelia’s sleeve.

“Oh? The marker hasn’t faded yet.” Amelia shines her flashlight on it, eyes lit up in amazement and nostalgia. 

The rough drawings of their faces and names are still here along with the heart between them. Gura blushes at the amateurish sketch, but mostly at the heart.  _ Oh, how you’ve come a long way, young Gura, _ she thinks to herself. 

Her foot bumps into a cardboard box when she tries to get closer to the wall. She crouches, shining her phone on top of it. It’s secured with tape that’s falling off. The bottom of the box is wet but in the dark, it’s hard to tell what colour it is. Amelia squats down beside her.

“Think there’s a head in there?” Amelia jokes.

Gura playfully jabs her in the shoulder. “Shut up.” Her hand reaches out to open it. Then, a cockroach scurries by, distracting her. 

Amelia cringes, standing on her feet again. She looks up, flashing her light upwards. “Did you hear that?”

Gura pokes the sides of the box. “Don’t play pranks on me right now while I’m on the verge of peeing my pants,” she says.

“No, just listen.” 

Something heavy is getting dragged upstairs; scraping along wood, shoes scuffing the floorboards. 

The scraping stops. Footsteps, quick but weighty. Then a deep grunt of frustration and the dragging starts anew.

“Ame?” Gura starts timidly.

Amelia’s eyes flicker from Gura, then to the exit across them. She smirks, bolting to the basement door without waiting for Gura.

“WHAT THE FUCK, DON’T JUST LEAVE ME HERE,” Gura whisper-shouts, also running. 

Gura trips over something, landing right on her face and dropping her phone. The cracking sound echoes, unbearably loud.

An annoyed meow sounds from below, tail swishing and copper eyes clear in the darkness.

Amelia stops at that, turning around. She points her light at the ground. “A cat??” Its black fur is almost invisible in the harsh light of Amelia’s phone. 

The footsteps from above grow louder and louder. Amelia and Gura pale in fear. 

“Get up before we both die here!” Amelia whispers, hurrying over to help Gura.

Gura squeaks, getting up to her feet. She grabs her phone in the process, petting the cat first before sprinting towards the exit. Amelia is beside her, sweating bullets. She fumbles around with the handle for the inside trapdoor.

“Are your steady gamer hands really failing on us now?!” Gura asks, looking back and forth between the darkness of the basement and Amelia. 

“I never said they were steady!” At that moment, Amelia finally unlocks both of the trapdoors, throwing them open.

The person’s footsteps are clearer now. Another meow is heard. “Hey!” Their shout is soft but strong enough to be heard over the wind, voice pitched low and feminine. 

Gura and Amelia are gone now, presences blown away by the breeze. The grey cloudy sky from earlier has been replaced by dark clouds brewing up a storm, the world shuddering with incoming doom. Raindrops pound on their backs as they pedal, water running down their heads and merging with cold sweat. Gura’s legs are still shaking from fear but as they ride into the faintly growing scent of anemone, she locks into a steady rhythm. They just have to make it across this road, over a hill and many others. But blocks away, the curiosity is too strong to resist, and Gura looks behind her shoulder. The mansion is only a silhouette now, framed by the dark clouds behind it. In the distance, a figure stands alone and unyielding, dark hair spilling over their shoulders. 

Gura wipes the rain from her eyes. Turns around, facing forward again.

It feels like she’s drowning.

  
  
  
  
  


❣

  
  
  
  
  


Amelia sneezes so hard that the joycon gets knocked out from her hands. She loses sense of her surroundings for a bit, frozen on her spot on the bedroom floor. Her character Yoshi is motionless on the sketchy, black and white platform of one of the SSBU maps. Gura is beside her, a toothy smile on her face that reeks of confidence. She presses a set of buttons rapidly, making Pikachu advance towards Yoshi in a flurry of punches and lightning strikes.

“That sneeze was louder than my loudest one,” Gura comments, still attacking Yoshi without mercy. “Ya gettin’ sick on me, Watson?” Concern manages to bleed into her tone even in the midst of a competitive round of life or death. 

Amelia sniffles, blinking owlishly and grabbing her joycon from the floor. “No way,” she replies, sniffling again. 

When she looks back at the small switch screen in front of them, Yoshi is in the process of falling into the void. “Come on, Gura!” Amelia complains, repeatedly mashing the jump button to get back to the top.

“This strategy is called ‘taking advantage of opportunities!’” Gura fidgets with the controller, moving Pikachu back and forth on the platform. Her skills still aren’t advanced enough to conduct an air battle without falling off herself.

Drawings of dolphins swim in the background, leaping in and out of the frame. Yoshi is back on the platform now, stomping towards Pikachu. Pikachu also walks forward, menacing even with one life left. Yoshi has two lives left but with a dangerously high life percentage. 

“Oh? You’re approaching me?” Amelia says, snickering.

Gura only laughs in response.

The battery warning flashes on the screen, temporarily pausing the game. Amelia dismisses it. They’ll most likely finish the game before her switch dies.

They battle it out for another few minutes. Teasing jabs, screams of excitement and complaint, incessant clicking of buttons and game sound effects fill up the air in Amelia’s room. Pikachu hangs off the ledge, clinging on to it while Gura screams in a panic. Yoshi is on the other side of the map, rolling forward in egg form.

“My jump button isn’t working?!” Gura mashes the button in hopes of it working before Yoshi knocks off Pikachu.

Amelia giggles. “Sounds like a you problem!” 

Yoshi is a second from pummelling into Pikachu but in a turn of events, Pikachu finally jumps up into the air. Yoshi almost rolls off the edge.

“I thought your switch was only a few months old?? Why is it failing already?” Gura asks, regaining her composure. Pikachu runs away from Yoshi, life percentage high now. 

“It is new! Maybe it’s your bad luck affecting the controls,” Amelia reasons. Yoshi chases after Pikachu, headbutting air. 

“Oi, my luck has been getting better these days!” Gura says. “And your good luck and my bad luck cancel each other out, therefore we both end up with average luck.”

“That’s not how it works!”

Gura moves Pikachu towards Yoshi, launching an onslaught of lightning and kicks. Amelia sticks her tongue out in concentration. For another tense few seconds, they dance around each other, dodging and fighting. Only one more well-timed move is needed to determine the winner.

Yoshi is knocked back but fortunately not off the platform. Amelia recovers quickly, leaping into the air and pressing the downwards attack button. 

Gura shrieks, scrambling to move out of the way but hitting the wrong control in the process. She attacks instead, throwing a punch that goes nowhere.

And just when Yoshi’s foot is about to collide with Pikachu’s face, the switch shuts off. Their astonished faces are reflected in the dark screen, jaws slack and eyes wide with disbelief. The world is suddenly alive again outside of their golden bubble, the foreign sounds rushing into Amelia’s ears like water. Outside, the rain pelts on her window, thick raindrops trailing down like individual teardrops. The sky is dark with storm clouds. Inside, she’s aware of the rustling of Gura beside her and the wooden floorboards underneath her hands, warm from the many hours of sitting. Her bed is behind them. The clock on her nightstand reads 12:47 AM, red letters bright in the dim lighting of her night light.

Gura yawns, stretching. Amelia’s eyes dart to the sliver of pale skin revealed when her t-shirt lifts up. 

She averts her gaze. 

A few hours ago they made it to Amelia’s house, waterlogged and cold. Their bikes were nonchalantly discarded in the driveway and forgotten. The house was quiet without the company of her family members. Amelia had shoved Gura into the shower (but not without the other girl complaining that Amelia would get sick) while she went and grabbed towels and clothes. The storm would continue on into the next day, the weather forecast had said. No way would Amelia let Gura go in the rain again since her immune system was notorious for having no defences.

After sneezing several times, getting Gura’s spare clothes from her designated drawer in Amelia’s room and making hot chocolate for both of them, she waited in the living room for the other girl to finish showering. 

A scream came from the bathroom, then a resounding clang that cut off Gura’s voice. 

Amelia sipped on her hot chocolate. 

Minutes later, Gura walked out of the bathroom, clean and without any traces of rain. Dressed in a white t-shirt, black shorts and a pair of clean socks, she was as comfortable as she could’ve been. 

Amelia handed her the hot chocolate, went to shower and then after that they killed time. They played horror games together (“Holy shit, that dude has  _ so _ many eyes!” “You can hold on to me if you’re scared.” “Shut up!”), tried to watch a romantic comedy but only poked fun at it (“This is too straight for me.” “Yeah… I think this was adapted from one of those overrated YA novels.”), sang All Star five times in a row, raced on Mario Kart and finally, battled it out on SSBU.

Amelia picks up the dead switch, reattaching the controller. She grabs Gura’s joycon from her hands and attaches that too. Gura lays spread-eagle on the floor, eyes closed and obnoxiously snoring. 

Amelia steps on Gura’s stomach to get to her desk and place the switch down. 

Gura lets out an ‘oof’ noise, immediately crumpling up into a ball. “Jesus, is this what happens when you ground pound my mom?” she asks, clutching her stomach in exaggerated pain.

Amelia laughs. “No, this is a very special thing only you get,” she says, putting the switch on her desk. She’ll charge it in the morning when she wakes up. 

“Aw, how sweet of you to grant me an early death.” Gura rolls over, stomach side down and cheek pressed against the floor.

The storm outside rages on. Amelia walks over to her bed, sitting down on the edge near Gura’s spot. She kicks Gura’s leg. “What do you wanna do now? The power’s probably going out soon.”

Gura hums in thought. “I would be studying right now, so I dunno…” 

Amelia’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You? Studying? Did you have a character arc overnight?” The exams are still weeks away, not yet peeking over the horizon of deadlines.

Gura sits up, looking at Amelia. Her cheeks are tinged with pink, eyes sparkling earnestly. “I’m doing this for you,” she says. 

Thoughts run through Amelia’s mind at that, jumping from conclusion to conclusion. Her heart skips a beat. Does she know? 

Then the glint in Gura’s eye turns teasing and she punches Amelia in the stomach as revenge for earlier. “And someone needs to knock you off your high horse! Not everyone is naturally smart like you,  _ Watson _ .“ 

“Gah!” Amelia flinches, covering her stomach in case Gura deals another blow. “That was uncalled for,” she whines. 

Gura sticks out her tongue at her like a little kid. 

Amelia grins, cracking her knuckles. “You wanna fight??” 

“Bring it on, nerd!” Gura straightens up, getting into a boxer’s stance. 

Lightning strikes, crashing loudly and lighting up the bedroom for a split second. They both look towards the window. The rain is coming down even harder than before, pounding on the roof like a stampede of hooves. 

“I guess we should sleep now,” Gura murmurs, bringing her hands down. “Where’s the spare mattress?” She looks around like it’ll manifest somewhere in the room.

“My brother took it as a replacement for his bed,” Amelia replies.

Gura stands up, dusting something off her shorts. She turns around. “I’ll take the couch so—“ 

Amelia’s hand reaches for Gura’s own, lightning-fast. “Don’t go,” she says, words tumbling out of her mouth before she can comprehend anything. Her chest and throat burn with everything she wants to say. She swallows thickly and says—asks, voice low, “Stay with me?” 

Gura is silent for so long that Amelia fears the rain has washed away her voice. Then her eyes soften. “Okay,” she whispers. 

Amelia releases her hand, grabbing another pillow for Gura then laying on the other side of the bed. Gura climbs in after her, pulling the blanket up to their chests. The rain outside persists. 

“We did this more often when we were kids, right?” Amelia asks. 

“When we were like fourteen, yeah,” Gura says. 

Amelia shifts forward. “When did you decide you were too good to sleep in the same bed as me?” she jokes, a tiny smile on her face. 

Gura’s eyes flicker downwards. “I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” She moves a bit closer. “This bed is also really small.”

“Uncomfortable?” Another shift. Amelia can feel Gura’s breathing now, slow and steady. “You’d never make me uncomfortable.” This face that she knows more intimately than her own: the deep azure eyes that hold too much kindness for Amelia; the same spot of silver in her mouth that gleams whenever she grins; the whorl of her ear. All of this—all of her. Amelia wants to cup her face tenderly, say “ _ I’ve got the world in my hands, _ “ and never let go. But soon she’ll be somewhere far away, body stuck in the lecture hall of a big university while her heart is still at home with Gura, blood running back to the ocean blue of her eyes.

The night light flickers, then turns off. It’s dark enough now that Amelia can’t make out the small details of Gura’s face. But the familiarity is still there, features and memories delicately arranged like a drawing someone’s spent hours on, bold pencil strokes carefully placed. The edges of her poke out in the murkiness—shoulders, chin, the tips of her ears.

Amelia moves, their noses now brushing. She closes her eyes. In the newfound darkness, the storm is an echo of the past, running quietly in the background. The world is vaguely off-kilter, the air charged not with the distant cry of thunder but the soft note of intimacy. 

“Hey,” she starts. Her eyes are still closed. “Will we be okay?” 

“Of course.” 

Amelia peers at Gura. Her eyes are half-lidded, dark like the sea at night. Her mouth is slightly parted. She looks like she wants to kiss her. Maybe Amelia wants to kiss her too. She just has to lean in, close her eyes and colour her in with pink. 

Lightning strikes. It’s silent. 

Then comes the boom. The crash of desire, old and tempting, stronger than ever. The burning in Amelia’s throat is apparent again. She leaves it burning a little longer to keep the gentle look in Gura’s eyes. To preserve this moment—this feeling.

“Promise?” Amelia asks instead.

Gura nods, blinking once, a tiny movement that tickles Amelia’s cheek. “Promise.” 

Amelia moves down, leaving a kiss on her jaw, soft as a butterfly landing on a flower. 

Gura lets out a shaky breath. 

Amelia rests her head on the other girl’s chest, listening for her heartbeat. The rhythm is a bit fast for someone who’s resting, but Amelia’s heart rate is the same. “Sleepy,” she mumbles, wrapping her arms around Gura’s smaller frame. The scent of the ocean and sea salt and everything she’s ever longed for fills her senses. 

Gura buries her cheek in Amelia’s hair, lips pressing themselves to the crown of her head. One arm is under the pillow while the other is on Amelia’s waist. “G’night, sunshine.” 

They lay there for a while, completely beyond the touch of time or change, only listening to each other's breathing. When Amelia feels her consciousness slipping, Gura’s hand moves from her waist to her hair, fingers threading gently through the locks. She’s humming an unfamiliar tune.  _ Baby, baby blue eyes, _ she croons.  _ Stay with me by my side. _

_ ’Til the mornin’, through the night. _ Gura stops singing there, humming the rest of the song. 

Amelia falls asleep. She dreams of spoken promises, whispered confessions and the colours pink and blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> taki forced me to take a break from writing so chapter three will take a bit longer to come out. so sorry about that ;; the last song gura hums is 'baby blue eyes' by a rocket to the moon! thank you for reading and happy holigays!!


End file.
